Nothing to blame When the mirror is perfect No cracks or rough edges No fingerprints or hairspray stains Just me …mule hair and spider spots, chicken pox cheek pock adorning man o’war skin, crow’s feet perching by panda eyes, sow chin hanging above a tortoise neck, tamarin hands holding up a gorilla chest, hippo belly,…
Inhaling doesn't hurt so much when living is the only loyalty. No, what hurts is the glance away, eyes that yank the flesh they once beheld, like waxing strips left on too long, too deep. Blood rivulets run through five o'clock shadow flumes while feathers lay shredded on the floor. I never imagined her tiger…
Dear sister, I understood your longing, for I felt it first. Lying on the sandbank, sea waves quietly tickling your fins, ears windswept for once. Music, carriages, voices, church bells rang in the early morning when the moon still bathed our scales. Baby sister, I enraptured you before the sailor's shadow. I only wanted your…
Blowhole of a blue whale, flaccid after death, floats highest of the corpse, becoming island. Flora emerges from seeds dropped off albatross wings. Humans have no more use for them. "Uninhabited Tropical Island" photograph by Matthew Neighbour Written for a brevity contest - exactly 30 words.
Eruption by cicada’s ear. Exoskeleton melting with no knowledge of heat, of flame, of burning…of gunpowder. Gold and violet lights fill ocelli, brighting out dim stars above and tree podomeres below. Does he believe the earth dies? A disorienting supernova. He falls as body dissolves. Brain’s final thought: Doomsday! Photo by Vlad Cheu021ban on Pexels.com…
She has been flailing in the ocean her entire life, yet some tsunamis she sails to fool the world that she is strong. She wishes she were upon stars that fall: meteorites splashing up salt in the stillness of silver night. If she could have even the destructive power of those asteroids that smash valleys…
Dirt smears the wrinkled cheeks of a Mothered woman. Sweat or infant’s piss drips from her brow as she steps off her stoop, arms full of a once-black blanket brown with dog hair and bleach. She gathers the corners and shakes, hard, once, twice; the third shows vigor of red lips no longer seen in…
Across the sky Against the ground My spirit sighs, pants, pumps wings like those of a large bird too heavy to keep pace with smaller tits. Across the sky Against the ground Look up and see a phoenix burning bright defiance but the eruption that begat the firebird hollowed out the past. Across the sky…
There was a small hiccup in production yesterday, but the link should be working now. It includes poems from this blog, such as "A Woman Named Armada," "Bones Like Ballast," "Red Crone and the Wolf," and "Prey of Shore and Sky." Follow this link to purchase: The Soul Without a Summer
The Soul Without a Summer is going live tomorrow on Amazon! I have completed a few last minute edits over the past week, including removing the last section I had entitled Dystopia. The poems in that section were specifically about climate change, and they always felt a bit incongruous when taking in the theme of…
National Poetry Writing Month
Keeping the world immersed in stanza.
About fantastical places and other stuff
"The silence of the night awakens my soul"
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Saralyn Caine Poetry 